In the Medbay
by CortessaBlatt
Summary: Atton suffers a wound, and only the exile may heal him… F ExileAtton aaaagaaaaain… Oneshot.


**In the Medbay**

_Atton suffers a wound, and only the exile may heal him… F Exile/Atton aaaagaaaaain…_

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **Hahaha. Don't ask. XD

**In the Medbay**

The sun had begun to set on the expansive city of Nar Shaddaa. The crimson and gold glow cast over the burning lights of the planet made the night bright – the metal walls and walkways shone beautifully. The City of Jewels, as Nar Shaddaa had been aptly nicknamed, stood out like a star across most of the system. Children two planets away came out and stood at their balconies to view it, the gold-and-red star in the sky.

The day was drawn to a close; Atton dragged his weary feet behind his leader and companion, Relina Nairda. The day had taken its toll on the crew that wandered slowly but steadily back to their ship, the Ebon Hawk. Only Kreia, T3-M4, and Mandalore had been left on the ship to rest, while Relina, her sister Juma, Sloegen, Visas, Mical, Atton, Bao-Dur, and Mira went on… whatever mission Relina had assigned them to. She herself wasn't entirely sure – she mostly spent her time exploring, while Mira protested loudly. She knew the place like the back of her hand, but no one took her advice, for one reason or another. Juma had, at first, been vastly amused by Mira's antics, but as the day wore on, and they became more and more tired, the colorfulness of it had quickly faded away.

Now, their shadows stretched out before them, and the walked, slumped with exhaustion. Only Sloe, with his arrogant pride, and Mical and Visas, with their Jedi nobility, stood erect, and the shadows played upon their sunken faces.

"When we get back, I'm jumping in the 'fresher," said Mira resignedly. "Don't bother to take me out next time, since you never listen to me."

"Oh, do quit your griping," Juma snapped, narrowing her heavily made-up eyes. All of her makeup was black, and was applied liberally every day, so that her eyes seemed like tiny glowing specks behind the thick liner. Her ebony hair was always parted to the side, to mask her right eye, like Atton. As she walked, people gazed at her with fear. It was well known that pale women with features like hers were to be avoided. And, while Juma was short-tempered and very dry, she was never vicious, though no one ever took the time to find out.

Like now, a woman in the road threw herself out of Juma's way. It may have been Juma, or just the rest of them, who looked somewhat imposing, Bao-Dur in particular. Atton, in his gangly glory, and Sloe, with his slick, smooth appearance, were not that frightening, but Mira was well-known in this city as the clever, quick, and efficient bounty hunter.

"Not that I care," said Sloe in his oily, charming voice, fixing his smoky grey eyes on Relina's face, "but you all tend to argue a lot. Is that normal?"

"Oh, yes," said Bao-Dur with his vicious wit, leaning forward to speak in Sloe's ear. "We tear each other to bits. You'll be next."

Sloe cocked an eyebrow. "You're not funny," he said silkily, running his hand over his dark, slicked-back hair. A few strands fell in his face, but he ignored them. He flashed Atton a smart smirk, nodding his handsome head.

Atton glowered at him, folding his arms as he shuffled along. It got very cold on Nar Shaddaa at night, and he could feel the beginnings of it tear at his skin. He also could live with whatever barrier he had against Sloe. The two of them didn't get along – Sloe was Atton's opposite and yet he was his equal. Both were scoundrels, smugglers, assassinators. While Atton hadn't lived a great life, Sloe had been a slave. Atton was scruffy, messy, and blunt, and Sloe was all slick honey and oil, metaphors and riddles, but both had a delicious, sarcastic humor. Both wore oversized coats and heavy boots and layered shirts; both drank, both danced, both smoked, both worked with blasters and, as far as Atton could tell, Sloe had made a competition over the affections of Relina. Sloe was wary and swift, like Atton, with excellent security skills, but Atton took great pride at being better at stealth. Sloe's feet were unnaturally heavy when he tried not to be caught.

Oh, yes, if these personalities didn't conflict with a passion, no other combinations would. That was certain.

Juma and Mira were much the same way, but they didn't get over a foolish battle over it.

"Landing docks are another mile away," Bao-Dur presently reported from the back. "If we pick up the pace, we can be there in a few minutes."

"Oh, just a mile?" Relina slowed down.

Atton bumped into her accidentally, unable to stop in time. He hadn't realized he'd been walking that closely to her – he would have corrected the situation. As he opened his mouth to apologize, that feeling… that bad, bad, sickening feeling started up in his gut. He swore softly. "I don't think we should hang around," he muttered. "Something's not right."

"Got that feeling again?" she asked him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

He spared a glance in Sloe's direction. Sloe scowled back. Atton grinned to himself and nodded to Relina. "Yes," he said. "We need to get moving."

"I can sense them," said Visas coolly. She spread her arm outward. "They're in the shadows, over there."

"What? Sith?"

"I can feel them, too," Mical murmured, closing his eyes. "Fifteen or so."

"Red, all of them," Visas said.

"Male."

"Armed."

"Angry."

"Foolish."

The two nodded at each other, satisfied.

"Frak," said Juma angrily.

"Frak," Mira agreed.

In unison, they drew their lightsabers. The hum from the combined weapons echoed sharply through the shadows. Atton, awkward and clumsy thus far with the Force, decided to rely on his blasters, rather than his amber lightsaber. Sloe sank back on his heels, drawing his lightsabers and grinning viciously.

"Finally, some practice," he hissed breathily. His lightsabers glowed a bright turquoise. Juma, beside him, twirled her violet, double-bladed thing craftily, and Visas was braced with her russet blade. Mical craftily tossed his blue lightsaber between his hands, a bright smile on his face. Mira had a green lightsaber between her fingers and she held it dangerously close to her lips, a wild look in her eye. It seemed they were putting on a show to discourage whoever was going to attack them.

It didn't work.

Out from the shadows rushed a wave of Exchange thugs. Atton screamed, firing with prejudice, sinking back on his knees. Bao-Dur rushed forward with the rest of the Jedi. The street erupted with blasterfire and lightsaber sparks.

Sloegen was clumsy with his blade. He almost got killed, and he quickly retreated, swapping out for his trusty blaster. "Hey, Atton, bud," he said, mirroring Atton's ranged attack stance and firing easily.

"Welcome back," Atton muttered, trying to discourage any conversation.

"I'm ass with a melee weapon," Sloe said. "I'm sticking to blasters from now on."

"You do that."

"Atton?"

"What now?"

"You know they're dead, right?"

"What?" Atton blinked. He had been firing into space. Bao-Dur rushed up and gripped the blaster tightly.

"Watch it," he said. "You almost shot me."

Atton gasped. "Sorry," he said, quickly pocketing his weapon. Sloe was smirking smugly at him behind his back; he could feel it. He bristled but kept his mouth shut. Relina gazed at him with concern, while Juma and Mira knelt down to pick the corpses for goods.

"Just thugs, wanting some money," Mira reported, flicking an ID card over her shoulder. "Nothing to be worried about."

"That's good," said Visas. "It would be unfortunate if we had yet another group after us."

"Atton!" Relina gasped, pointing. "You're bleeding!"

Atton frowned, not understanding. "What?" he asked. He looked down, and blinked at the slowly-growing red stain on his pants. "Oh."

Mira raised her eyebrows. "You were lucky, Rand," she said. "Any higher and you would have lost your co-pilot."

"Oh, shut up!" Juma barked, though she grinned broadly. Relina flushed; Sloe rolled his eyes.

At first, he didn't feel it, but slowly an aching pain crawled up his leg, to his middle, then to his chest, and finally formed a throbbing headache. He limped back with everyone to the Ebon Hawk, and Relina sent him to the medbay.

"Which one of the boys has any medical training?" she asked when Atton was out of sight.

Mical was silent. She cocked an eyebrow at him and he shifted uneasily. "Well, I _do_," he mumbled. "But… I… I don't want to have to… well…" He bolted.

"Yellow-bellied spice-sucker," Relina growled. She turned her gaze to Bao-Dur.

"I'm good with droids, not human flesh," said Bao-Dur simply. He allowed her to examine his arm. "Unless you want his leg looking like this, I suggest you save me for last."

"Good point," she said. "You can go do… whatever it is you do."

"I'm glad you care so much," he replied with gentle sarcasm, and headed for the 'garage' area. Mandalore started after him, but Relina held him back.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I had a healing implant for a reason," Mandalore said shortly. "I don't do well with my hands." He paused. "Just jab him with a medpack and get it over with. It's no big deal. Just a little clip on the thigh."

She glowered. "If it's no big deal, why don't you do it?"

"Because that's what you're for," he replied with a cheeky smile, tapping her jaw with his finger. She glowered after him as he left.

Relina turned to Sloe, who held up his hands. "No way in hell," he said. "Sorry, babe, you know I'd do anything for you, except for that." Relina groaned and sent him off to watch the Ebon Hawk's cockpit.

"I'm out, thanks," said Mira. "I have better things to do than examine Atton from the waist down."

Relina sighed and looked desperately at Visas. Her lips twitched and she said with as much restraint as possible, "_No_."

Juma was last. She just stared at her sister for the longest time before she tilted her head back and laughed uproariously. Relina, realizing that the droids and Kreia were out of the question, was left to do it herself. Feeling ill and frustrated, she made her way to the medbay, where Atton lay in his cot, counting the ceiling panels.

"Atton."

He looked at her and his eyes grew wide. "And my dreams have come true," he said. She watched him warily, unsure of whether he was joking or not. She figured a mix of both.

"I have to work on you," she said stiffly, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of seeing her distaste.

"Aw, Lena Doll, I'm touched," he said, struggling to sit up.

She watched him with narrowed eyes. "No one else would do it," she told him.

Atton fell back, wounded. "Oh." He turned his eyes to the ceiling. "Do your worst, then."

"Let's play doctor," Relina breathed, letting the door close. She approached and made him lay down properly. "Let me work on you or I'll just leave you to cut off your own leg."

He obeyed, gazing up at her with cautious eyes. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Don't be an idiot." She removed his boots, tossing them towards the door. They thudded loudly and Atton started, trying to get up again. She pinned him down. "Quit it. Don't be a baby."

"I have this thing about people touching me," he said, staring at her earnestly. "Please. I think I can handle it."

"Not where this has settled, Rand," she said. "It's tricky. Someone else has to do it."

He swore. "Just… be careful," he mumbled. "Please don't do anything funny."

"I promise, Atton." She ordered him to remove his jacket, because it was getting in the way. She stripped off her own jacket, because the sleeves were obstructing her hands. "You ready?"

"Sure."

"Good." She carefully started for his belt. He recoiled, making a small noise in the back of his throat.

"Hey, now, I can do that myself!" he cried. She stepped back, folding her arms, though a small smile tugged at her lips. He undid his belt and set it on the floor by the cot.

"I need your pants, too," she told him.

He stared. "What?"

"You heard me." She was fighting between laughter and crying at the lack of dignity.

Atton flushed deep crimson. "Why?"

"Atton, the wound is on your thigh," she said, pointing. "I need your _leg_, and I can't reach it while your pants are on. That's why I made you take off your belt. Don't tell me you couldn't figure that out."

"Sorry, I… I just didn't… are you sure you're not just doing this for your own enjoyment?" he said, desperately grasping at humor to cover up his nervousness.

"Here, if you're so anxious about it," Relina said, and pulled off his pants. He fought her every step of the way, stammering and spluttering. He clawed at her hands, trying to dislodge her, but she finally got them off, and threw them next to his shoes. He tried to curl up and protect his exposed body, but pain seared up his leg and he groaned, flopping back.

"Thank you," she said, brushing his bangs from his eyes. He glared at her.

"I hate you."

"I love you, too. Lay still." She set the medical supply sack on the edge of the cot and felt his wound, checking how deep it was, and making sure nothing was lodged inside. She determinedly kept her eyes on the bloody spot, no higher. Atton winced and hissed with pain, growling quietly as she worked.

"Ouch, that hurts," he grumbled.

"I know, it's okay," she murmured, glancing up at him. "I'm sorry. I'll make it quick. If I could avoid hurting you, I would."

"Don't get all sentimental about it," he grumbled.

Completely by accident, her fingers wandered upwards an inch as she began digging around in her supply sack. Atton gasped, jerking away.

"There's nothing wrong with _that_!" he cried.

She recoiled, mortified. "I'm sorry!"

He shook his head, trembling.

Relina bit her lip, studying him with furrowed brows. Tense silence filled the room and she looked away, embarrassed.

"You know, i-it's okay," he said after a moment. His voice was loud in the thick quiet. "Just don't do it again."

She nodded, flushing red as she found her medpack. "Okay. Hold on." She bit the seal and ripped it open, but in her nervousness she dropped it and it spilled all over the cot.

Atton snorted. "Oh, good going," he said.

"Shut up." She shot him a glare, but couldn't keep from laughing. He grinned at her, feeling a little less awkward now. She reached out and wiped some kolto on his shirt. He gasped, gripping her wrist.

"You _didn't_," he growled, his mouth twisted into a playful, mock-angry smirk.

Her eyes flickered from his eyes to his mouth. "Sorry," she said untruthfully.

With her gaze lowered to his mouth, he couldn't see her eyes while they were veiled beneath her lashes. "Now what are you staring at?" he whined. "Aren't you supposed to be healing me?"

"Hmm? Oh." Her eye snapped back to his face and she quickly backed up. "Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry."

"Sorry."

Atton laughed. "You're something," he said, shaking his head. He took the kolto from his shirt and slipped it between his lips, watching her silently for reaction.

Relina determinedly averted her eyes, to something a little more interesting, and she, flustered, shut her eyes tight.

He was laughing at her shamelessly. When she glanced up at him, his face was red, but his eyes shined with genuine mirth. A chuckle rose in the back of her throat. Damn him and his contagious laughter. In desperation, she whirled around and gripped his face in her hands.

"Stop it," she breathed, staring sternly into his eyes. "No more. Quit distracting me; I have to work."

He licked his lips – she could hear the mumbling laughter still in his throat. "Oh, really?" he said, staring back with intensity.

She tensed. "Yes, really."

Atton's voice grew dangerously quiet. "Get on with it, then. You're stalling."

She gaped. "_I'm_ stalling?" she shouted. "You nerf-herder! You keep distracting me!" She shoved him, not caring that he was wounded. He tried to laugh, but his breath hitched in his throat with the pain.

"What? With my good looks and charm?" He growled and clucked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, grinning up at her.

"Ugh!" She thrust her hands at him and grabbed another medpack. She ripped open the seal and this time it worked as she pressed it to his leg.

He hissed, shutting his eyes and grimacing. "Oh… I hate blaster wounds." A few minutes passed and the kolto dried. He was done. She stripped it off and threw it away, allowing his gaze to rake her backside as she turned away from him. When she returned, he had propped himself up on his elbows, and she could see the scar where he had been hurt. It was healed.

Relina studied him for a moment and smiled. "Feel better yet?"

Atton gazed up at her for a moment before he looked away and fixed his eyes on the opposite wall. "Physically."

She frowned. "Physically?" she echoed. "I don't understand."

"You wouldn't understand," he murmured, drawing his knees to his chest. He nodded at her and his voice grew crisp with dry humor. "_Thank you_, for your _excellent_ medical treatment."

"You _are_ a scandalous little beast," she replied, wrinkling her nose and smiling.

He smiled back halfheartedly. "Go get some sleep, Lena Doll," he said. "I'll be better in the morning."

She bent down and hugged him. Stunned, he didn't react for a moment, but when her grip tightened her gently patted her on the back. She buried her face in his chest, inconspicuously soaking him up while she could. He still smelled like Atton – like leather and spice, though he touched neither during the day. It was a warm smell – not like Mical, who smelled of soaps, and Bao-Dur who smelled like engine oil, and Mira who… smelled like Mira…

"Lena?"

"Hmm?"

"You can get off me now."

She pulled away, clearing her throat. Atton watched her with a slight frown. She brushed his bangs from his eyes – an affectionate gesture she'd gotten used to, and he hated it more and more each time she did it. "Any time you get hurt again, let me know," she told him, and swept out.

He stared after her, shocked. When he regained his senses, he could only lay there and laugh.

------

**Author's Notes: **Hahaha. I like this one. It's cute. Let me know what you think of it, okay? And my Atton to Mercy fic… I wonder why everyone hates it. Eh.

Oh, yeah. Now you've met Sloegen. Yeah. His name is Sloegen (Slow – Guh – An) or just Sloe for short. He's a character I made up, just to bother Atton. If you were to compare Atton to three words, it would be, "Sarcastic, scruffy, and shamefaced." Sloe is "Slick, swift, and smart." (S.S.S.) Originally, he was found in a ventilation system, drunk with spice all over his hands. He was rescued by Atton and Relina. Anything else you want to know about him is already in this story. You'll see him later, too.

And you've met Juma, Relina's sister. A couple years older than Relina, heavily-tattooed, mouthy and angry most of the time. She smokes, but doesn't drink. Wears big skirts and tiny tops and lots of arm bands and bangles. That's about it.


End file.
